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Tag Archives: memory
Innocence
We take the bus to the debate tournament – Molly and I in our backless sweaters, convinced that feminine wiles are a major player in our offensive strategy. Where do I meet him exactly? Maybe in the hall between rounds, … Continue reading
The News
I hang up the phone. Aunt Loretta is dead. The Queen of Ice Hockey now sits on her celestial throne, with empty chairs to her left and right awaiting Jayna Hefford and Wayne Gretzky. From thence she shall come to … Continue reading
The Thin Line
Between compos mentis and dementia, between memory and life, between the past and the present, Falls the shadow. A Neverland of possibility. Nothing to undo. Nothing to be done. In this shadow space lurks awareness, knowledge of history, hope for … Continue reading
Can I Get a Do-Over?
I drove down to Mayo in the dead of winter for my medical school interview. The winter wind is extra special in southern Minnesota. Anything lighter than my 2500 pound 1986 Volvo would’ve blown right off the road into the … Continue reading
Shari
The ribbon candy arrives every December in a decrepit orange VW bug, swirls of radioactive corn syrup contorted into impossibly long curlicues, one infinity symbol stacked atop another. The candy is hard, hard enough to cut your gums. You’re supposed … Continue reading
‘Round Midnight
I feel the precipitous drop in my energy. My scrubs are scratchier, scalp too tight. Alone in the call room, I let down my hair, slip off my shoes. The fitted sheet slides over the plastic mattress. Petroleum byproducts assault … Continue reading
Lost in the Words – or – This is Why My Desk Looks Like Kandinsky’s COMPOSITION VII
I love the Oberlin College alumni magazine. I love the artwork, the articles, reminiscing about places I walked and people I knew. I read the class notes and giggle that some (crazy) folks in my year still feel young enough … Continue reading
Grampa Sid’s Sharpie Legacy
I can picture the seagulls clearly, dancing along their proscribed circles, all in orbit around the hook hanging from my ceiling. The ubiquitous 1970s mobile. Mine with graceful arcs of silver metal, the birds dangling on their little tethers. Grampa … Continue reading
“Renegade” – My Gateway Drug
The plaintive words transport me in time: “Oh Mama, I’m in fear for my life from the long arm of the law.”* Apple Valley, Minnesota. 1970s. Nancy was one of my best friends from birth until she moved. Her family … Continue reading
Fein and Dandy
Some time after the birth of my son, I found the first one. Coarse, errant, longer than the other eyebrow hairs. I freaked out. Well, that’s it then – it’s all downhill from here on out. Ace claims that everything … Continue reading